


The Thin Man & The Ranger

by Darrilshrugs



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Honeymoon, Murder Mystery, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-01-06 04:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12204171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darrilshrugs/pseuds/Darrilshrugs
Summary: *Spoilers through Episode 95*During the break from adventuring, but after they have married in secret, Vex and Percy jump at a chance at some time alone outside of Whitestone. Their hopes of a quiet honeymoon in Vasselheim is interrupted by a friends’s request to help solve a murder and our heroes reluctantly get involved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I said a few weeks ago that I liked the idea of a Vex & Percy detective story in the mold of Dashiell Hammet’s the Thin Man novella and the fun detective comedies of the 1930′s. Full of quick banter and lots of characters attempting to order cocktails while solving the mystery.
> 
> I though having it the idea out of my head would be helpful. I now have about 4000 words of it. So here is some.
> 
> Again, haven’t written much or shared writing in a long damn time, so if you have some tips, or notice something, please let me know.

Maybe, just maybe, for once in their lives, the person calling out was for someone other than them.

Things had been going so smoothly. Their secret was still safe among the necessary few, still theirs.  Now a chance for a few days away had allowed them a semblance of a honeymoon, where they could be newlyweds away from any prying eyes, or potential improprieties (Cassandra had tried to make a point about public displays of intimate affection by city nobility, but Vex had been lost to a laughing fit at the use of the term ‘canoodling’ in scolding tone).

 “Oh, it’s you! Thank the gods that you found me!”

Years spent together, as allies in battle, then close friends, and then lovers, had led to remarkable simpatico in combat and tense social interactions. A side-eyed glance at one another, hands griping slightly tighter, they continued to walk one of the garden paths weaving in and around the Birthheart.  

“Maybe mistaking us for someone else?” she murmurs, hopeful.

“Mmm. The other couple, walking with a brown bear.”

Nope.

“Vex! Percy!”

Vex, though several drinks in on the day, recognized the high-pitched voice immediately, and Percival, from the brief stiffening of his shoulders, shortly after. They stopped and turned, again clinching hands as the human woman rushed to catch them up the path’s incline.

 She had bunched and pulled up some on the front of her skirt with one hand to allow her to walk more quickly after them. When she saw that they had stopped and turned, she raised that hand along with her other in an odd, but friendly, double-wave that matched the slightly manic grin on her face.

Her next step caught in her now-free skirt and she stumbled, colliding with an elven man walking in the other direction, before landing partially on her right side with a light puff of dirt and grass, her red hair flopping onto the ground around her head.

As one seemingly accustomed to such incidents, she popped back up and began to smooth herself out, casting a glance back at the man she had bumped. He had moved on down the path, but continued to glance back at the woman every few steps, to see if she was alright.

“Rude!” she said, none-to-quietly, and then started to address them, still a good 15 feet up the path “That man ran into me, and almost knocked me completely down! I should report him to the Bastions, if I had the time!” She then seemed to immediately reconsider and called down the path toward the elven man “Sorry! I’m sorry, sir!”

“Lyra, it’s lovely to see you!” Vex said, a substantial percentage of the brightness in her voice and smile forced, but not enough for the awkward woman to notice.

“You two, too!” The red-headed woman, now as composed as she was capable of ever being, responded sunnily. “I knew that when I asked Vanessa and Murtin to send out word for help that they would do everything that they could to find the best out there, but I never thought that they would get Vox Machina to come help! But of course you did, you’re the best! And you even knew to find me here, of all places! I’m sure you’ll know exactly what to do….”

“Lyra, we -” Percival was attempting shake off his own light inebriation, and to slow down the avalanche of words.

No such luck. “Yes! It’s good to see you too, Percy!” She moved to hug him, while never stopping talking, and kneed her way through Percival and Vex’s gripped hands, stumbling against him and now speaking directly into the taller man’s neck and shoulder.

She never stopped talking. He would be more amused if he weren’t visibly put out at the distraction from their anonymous walk. He lightly nudged her back to a comfortable interpersonal distance and she continued speaking.

“He’s been gone for weeks, and now supposedly he’s come back without saying anything to me or anyone? And now there’s a dead body and they say it’s his fault? I don’t believe it! Not because I don’t want to believe it, but because I don’t think it could possibly be true!”

Vex gave up on disengaging herself from this encounter with quick social niceties. “What’s this about a body? And who is ‘he’ you are talking about? Aldor?”

“Aldor?” Lyra spun around, looking for the mentioned man. “Oh, I thought you were saying that he was here. I haven’t been able to catch him in – Oh, no! Aldor is fine; he hasn’t killed anyone who didn’t need killing.”

“Then who is dead?” Percy was trying to steer her.

“That awful assistant of his, Wilfrieda Wolff! I never liked her.” About now, it seems that she began to realize that they had no idea what she had been talking about, and the excitement on her face at seeing them began to shift to concern. Her eyes moved back and forth between their faces. “You don’t know what’s going on? You aren’t here to help me and Uncle Randy?”

“No, we weren’t –“ Vex began, and adjusted on the fly as Lyra reacted to her first word, “but we are here, now. Why don’t we meet you for a drink in a few minutes and you can fill us in on the whole situation?”

“But we could really use your help now!”

Percy, gods bless him, jumped in with his calming, know-it-all tone “We plan to see if we can be of any service. We just need to take Trinket back to the inn, and we will join you shortly. Where is a suitable establishment?”

They agreed to meet in an hour’s time at a place known to them, but not as public as the Slayer’s Take guild hall. Percy and Vex, along with Trinket, continued their loop that would bring them back to their spacious rooms at the small inn they had checked into that morning. (Vex’ahlia had penned their names into the register as ‘Mrs. and Mr. de Rolo’, and they had both been so delighted by being able to do so that they had shepherded Trinket out onto the room’s terrace as soon as they had entered).

They again held hands as they walked, not saying much to each other about the interruption to their time together. Percy broke the comfortable quiet as the inn came into view.

“Wife?”

“Yes, my darling husband?”

“We are here to enjoy ourselves, eat and drink too much and throw ourselves at one another, not get mixed up in someone else’s adventure, correct?”

“Yes, Percy, we are here for our time of rapture and romance, not to solve murder puzzles.” She paused “But we will not leave a friend in need.”

He squeezed her hand. “Oh, I agree and love you for it. I just wanted it on the record before we end up drawn into something awful.”

That drew a smile “Noted. We will try our best not to get too deeply involved. And gods help anyone that tries to get between us and this time to ourselves.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vex and Percy learn more about their friend's problem, and the players involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,
> 
> This is an exposition monster of a chapter. I had some other cute scenes already planned, and then realized, if I were to do this, I needed to actually establish a plot. There's still a little bit of fun stuff in here, I hope, but writing, and plot are hard, so there you have it.
> 
> Again, I am very rusty a a writer, so I will be happy to take any suggestions or comments to help this flow better. I love these characters, and its fun to try to write in their voices.
> 
> Thanks for checking in, hope you enjoy it.

The bar where they met Lyra was in the flashier part of the Duskmeadow, among several similar establishments that created a more festive environment than one would expect for an area associated with Vax's Matron of Ravens. They slid through the crowd of lively patrons to join Lyra at a table near an open window, which allowed the cooler outside air to balance the humid warmth of the crowded establishment.

Lyra appeared even more agitated than before, rubbing at an area of the table that must have been stained or sticky. Whatever substance she was attempting to get rid of had begun to stain cuffs of the cloak she wore over her earlier outfit; the cream wool becoming a gummy brown. She continued to fidget as they sat down. They exchanged greetings again, and ordered a round of whiskeys from a prompt dwarf attendant.

"I've been thinking since we met before, and I feel really, really, bad for assuming you were here for me, and dumping all my problems on you. You probably have other important things to do here and while I'm happy to see you, and catch up on what you've been doing - you don't have to help with finding Uncle Randy and proving that he couldn't kill anyone. It's not your concern and I shouldn't have assumed - "

Vex stopped the rolling boulder of words with an raised open hand. "Lyra, we told you we would try to help. We are here already. Tell us what's happening, and if we can be helpful, we'll do what we can." Percy nodded as well, and Lyra took in a deep breath, a sip of her newly-arrived drink and filled them in on the situation.

It seems that Uncle Randy, as a trade representative to Vasselheim from Emon, had taken a leave of absence from his post a few weeks back, leaving notes for her, his only relative in the city, as well as some business associates, that he would be visiting several other settlements around Issylra, to help reset terms of trade agreements to those more favorable for the rebuilding capital of Tal'dorei.

"Is his leaving the city and traveling on his own unusual?" Percy asked as he rolled his glass in his hands, active fingers indicating his active mind.

"Yes and no. He hasn't traveled much these past few years, since coming to Vasselheim, but before that, he was a very successful traveling merchant."

"Sounds like a very patient and practical negotiator." Vex remarked, with a hint of admiration.

Lyra shrugged, her cloak falling off her shoulders and draping onto the floor, wet with mud and spilled drinks. "He does have a bit of a reputation for driving a hard bargain with other traders, and being less than friendly sometimes. I mean - I love him, and I'm sure he loves me, though he never says it - but I don't think he has many friends amongst the other trade guild members here. . ." She took another large gulp of her drink and coughed around her next words "or maybe friends at all. He can be a little temper-y".

"That's totally understandable, dear. Now this dead woman, is it possible she did something to make him lose his temper?"

"No! No. At least, I don't think so. No" Lyra had sat back, straighter now than she had been in quite a few minutes as she told them about her uncle. Vex leaned in with a more concerned tone.

"Don't get defensive, Lyra. We have to ask questions if we're going to help."

Lyra looked between their faces, Vex's open and leant forward towards her. Percy, who nodded, and tracked his eyes to meet hers, as scanned the rest of establishment, arrayed past her shoulder. "Yes," he said, meeting her look, "Who was this woman to your uncle. A subordinate, you said?"

Lyra coughed out a laugh, a somehow unpleasant sound from the usually pleasant and upbeat, if unsure, wizard. "I don't know if Wilfrieda Wolff was every subordinate to any man, at least not for very long."

She told them, over another round of drinks, about the dwarven woman who her uncle referred to as an assistant. From the sound of things, and Lyra's own unsubtle inferences, Wilfrieda Wolff was many things: A wily negotiator, a personal assistant, a book-keeper for the guild, and possibly Uncle Randy's lover.

Lyra's descriptions and anecdotes about the woman, made it abundantly clear that she held a mix of dislike and grudging appreciation for "Ms. Wolff" as she called her. Harsh feeling or drink turning the title in to an emphatic, buzzing "Mizzz Wolff". Her depiction left them with the impression of a heady woman, skilled at working with all types of people, and relentless in pursuit of an objective.

She was also more than free with intimating that Wilfreda, while not what she would have called classically attractive, possessed an inviting and sensual nature that she had seen used on more than her Uncle. "She has - had- this effect on people, especially men. Not magical, I'm sure, but it might as well have been sometimes. I didn't really like her - mostly how she seemed to have a close relationship with Uncle Randy, and I feel a little bad about that I guess - but she did what she had to in order to get what she needed done, and I guess I liked it sometimes that she was this small women outfoxing overconfident men?"

Both women at the table tacked their eyes to the man sitting with them, who finished another long sip of his drink. "Don't you look at me. I have long known well enough to be respectful toward, or terrified of, very capable women."

He felt his wife's hand give three quick squeezes to his own under the table. A private signal of theirs, of wordless affection and reassurance. "If this Wolff woman was as assured as she you make her sound, than possibly she had made enemies?"

Lyra's brows closed together in thought for a moment. "I'd more than bet that she made some people mad in negotiations, or making cuts at the trade guild warehouses when work was slow, but she always seemed to keep things from getting too personal, even when she was charming the actual pants off of that elf merchant that visited from Kraghammer - wait! She did have some things that got personal!"

She went on to tell them about a rough-dressed man that she had seen with Wilfrieda a couple of times near the Quad Roads area of the city. She had seen this man, a stocky human with wide, heavy features, grab Wilfrieda around the shoulders, talk with her intensely, and walk with her to the former location of the Velvet Cabaret, now an establishment with a less-than-stellar reputation in the Duskmeadow. Another time, just last week, according to Lyra, she had seen Wilfrieda and the man, and Wilfrieda had dismissed him by shoving a satchel into his chest and walking away.

Lyra denied several times that she had been following Wilfrieda, though it appeared that she sometimes did. When Wilfrieda had left the man this last time she had almost run headlong into her, and that Wilfrieda had seemed less composed than normal, although she didn't have an opinion as to the other woman's mood - she may have been scared or angry.

Lyra was continuing on that she suspected this man may be a criminal of some sort, and the Wilfrieda may have had a lawless history of her own, when things began to happen around them, all at once.

Percy had been keeping his eyes on the general area, paying special attention to the busy bar and those milling about nearby. He was aware of a dark-skinned man in most of the uniform of a Bastion of the Quad Roads approaching the table. The man's gloves and helm were absent, revealing a weak jaw with a prominent knot on the left side, as if it had been badly broken and healed poorly. It made his already ugly features even more uneven.

By the time he had made his weaving approach to them, Percy and Vex had already tensed for action; feet pulled back and flat under their chairs, ready to move. Vex's left hand slipped from her husband's toward the dagger in her boot, as his right flowed to the butt of the pistol in the cross-draw holster on his left hip. The off-duty Bastion placed one hand on Lyra's shoulder, more to steady himself than threaten the woman, and he stared across at Vex'ahlia and Percival, his eyes darkly lidded.

"I know you." He slurred, tongue either heavy with drink, or positioned oddly in his rearranged jaw. "You're friends of that criminal Goliath, the blonde fancy lad and the red-haired monster that did this to me." He gestured generally at his face. "You're gonna take me to 'em, or you'll answer questions in the oubliette".

He had barely finished his drunken threat when a meaty hand fell on his own shoulder, making him the middle part of an odd chain, with a startled Lyra the bottom. The Bastion tried to step back and turn his head, but found a large body pressed against his, and whined in discomfort from what was obviously increasing pressure on his shoulder.

''Hello there, Tjarks. You using your off-duty time bothering these friends of my mate Phillip?'' The half-orc pit-fighter gave a tusky smile to those at the table and began steering the quickly sobering bastion back into the crowd of patrons. He called back them over his shoulder as he shoved the interloper toward the front door. ''You can put your steel away, this one will bother you no more, and next round's on me.''

Vex and Percy sheathed their respective weapons, which Lyra finally noticed with some dismay. Kern retuned shortly after, followed by another round of drinks. After exchanging niceties and getting an update on the successes of their friends Pike and Grog at the Crucible, they asked Lyra to describe her mystery man that she had seen with Wilfrieda Wolff. Kern thought over his drink a minute, then asked for a more detailed description of the man's clothes and mannerisms before excusing himself to "Ask a few people worth asking".

"How do you know him?" Lyra asked, confused and more than little intoxicated.

"He's fought Grog in the Crucible the first time we came to the city. They fought a second time, and maybe flirted some". Vex answered without looking at her, watching along with Percy as Kern circulated around the end of the bar, talking to a few men and women hunched over drinks.

Percy scoffed. "Grog bit most of his lip off and pummeled his groin repeatedly, if I recall."

"That's how Grog flirts, darling."

"Remind me never to flirt with Grog."

"If you start, I may be the one pummeling your groin."

Percy slipped his hand back into hers. "I love you too, dearest."

By the time Kern came back to them, a few minutes later, Lyra had hit her tipping point, and had gone from tipsy to drunk. She looked as she was trying to follow the conversation, then dropped her head to the sticky table. Kern told Percy and Vex that the description matched a somewhat-known small-time hustler known as Relli. He was known to fence stolen goods, and sometimes go in on a blackmail scheme, but from what Kern had gathered, wasn't much of a danger, unless cornered or truly desperate.

Kern said that he would continue to ask around for them, if they wanted, and they accepted, letting them know the location of the inn where they were staying, and if they could not be found, to leave a message for them or for Lyra at the Slayer's Take guildhall. They parted with handshakes all around, except for Lyra, who Percy half-walked, half-carried to the Take, and left in the care of the attendant on duty.

The Lord and Lady of Whitestone then strolled slowly back to their rooms, full of love and drink. Neither wanted to admit to the other the hint of guilt they felt; that working on a problem like this together was as much, if not more, fun than any quiet honeymoon they could imagine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up a bit, both for Percy and Vex, who get a little time alone in domestic bliss, and in the investigation, as it were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a more fun chapter, and being totally forthright, more the kind of thing that originally came to me when I though about writing something.
> 
> Happy, light moments between these two, with my attempts at sweet, witty repartee. Then maybe some light violence.
> 
> I don't know if I got there, but I'm happy to have tried.
> 
> As always, I'm flexing some old, unused muscles here, so if you see something that could be better, or needs fixing, please let me know. I appreciate it.
> 
> Thanks!

 

Percival woke to a damp, warm, and insistent press against his shoulder blade. He lolled his head over in that direction. Most men would go their entire lives without looking into the eyes of a great brown bear from mere inches away (and be quite happy for it, he mused). Percival, however, had long ago come to know that he was not going to live a life like most men. 

The bear regarded him, made a relatively quiet chuffing sound, then rested his massive head on the bed, expectant. Percival spoke to him quietly, his voice thick with sleep and the happy remains of last night’s drinks. 

“Good morning, Trinket. I expect you could use a visit to the outdoors. I’ll be right with you.” He rolled back over, onto his shoulder, to address the situation that was keeping him from letting the bear out into the hallway, where he could find his own way down and out of doors.

It was _quite_ the situation. He had not gotten used to the feeling of waking up this close to her, and hoped that he never would.

She was truly angelic in sleep, he hated to wake her. The odds, unfortunately, that he could extricate his arm from where it wrapped under her, and unwind his leg from hers, all without disturbing her, were too long, even for him. He lowered his mouth lightly to touch the crown of her head, nose rustling into the roots of thick, dark, hair. Pressed his lips to her scalp in soft kiss, and then whispered.

 “Vex?”

 “Hmmm…?”

 “I need to borrow this extra arm and leg of yours for a bit to take your bear-son out for a walk. May I have use of them?”

Her eyes were closed and her head nestled both on the pillow and his chest, but she was awake and mostly alert. Her voice was a bit muffled, but clear enough to carry a mock-imperious tone. “You may leave, husband, but come back to me quickly.”

He slid out from under her, and out of the bed, brushing against the still-waiting bear. Vex immediately flowed into the space he had occupied, claiming the area, pillow, and covers warmed by his body as her own, all without opening her eyes.

She lay stretched across the bed, a vision of soft skin, lithe muscle and flowing hair. It took substantial resolve on his part not to rejoin her. The inner conflict caused him to pause in grabbing his clothing from where it had been thrown around the room in the hurried mutual-disrobing of the previous night.

Her eyes opened - dark, and instantly aware, as she always was, despite the amount of whiskey she too had consumed. She languidly reached out to scratch Trinket’s chin, and he leaned into her touch as if he were more feline than ursine. “Buddy, Percy will take you out for a quick walk, and we will take a long one around the district later, after breakfast, alright? I love you so much.”

She turned her attention to the now half-dressed man sitting in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, in partial profile to her as he laced his boots. “You know, dear, if you are going to speak to me about Trinket, you might as well begin to refer to him as ‘ours’. We’re a package deal, and he’s your son, as well.”

His mouth curled up at one corner, eyes fixed on her as he finished with his boots and moved on to buttoning his shirt. “I love you, Vex’ahlia, but no matter how many times we say it to one another in jest, I don’t think that you are going to successfully manipulate me into uttering the phrase ‘bear-heir’, to my sister.”

She giggled, ending in a surprise snort that caused them both to laugh. He shrugged on his familiar blue coat, and she buried her head in the pillow, leaving him looking at her bare back, lightly shaking with continued laughter against the cream-colored bedding. He took two long steps over, bent, and kissed her, once between the shoulders, and again at the hollow of her back, just at the edge of the covers. “Back shortly, love, and I’ll order coffee and fruit on my way back up.”

She made a relaxed sound into the pillow, and muttered into it. “Come back soon, husband, and do not go getting us any more involved in adventuring without me.”

“My goal is to be involved in nothing for the near future except my wife”. He opened the door for the ever-patient Trinket, who had sat through all of this with huge, dark, eyes flicking between his two people and the door.

The massive animal moved past him down the hall toward the thankfully wide stairs of the inn on the edge of the Abundant Terrace. Vex sniggered at the potential double-entendre responses Percy had left open with his parting comment and returned her head to the pillow as he closed the door. 

 

** 

When Percival returned to the room, some minutes later, Vex was up and about. She sat at the bedside vanity, near the windows, beginning the process of brushing and braiding her hair.

She was pleased to be wearing her new robe. It was colored and styled in the manner of Percival’s coat, down to the stitching and buttons, but in a much softer, lighter material, and was secured with a lavender sash at the waist. It had been a sweet and clever wedding present from her clever husband. She knew he would appreciate her having brought it on their trip, especially once she showed him how lovely it looked when she wore nothing underneath.

She was also pleased to look in the vanity mirror to see her husband, carrying a tray with a carafe of coffee, cups, fixings, fruit and a small bottle of what looked to be brandy.

She was less pleased to see that he wore a hard expression on his face, and then saw why- a thick, man with broad features was following closely behind. The man's worn, brown cloak not totally obscuring the blade of a knife held against Percival’s kidney.

“Stop there.” The man ordered, and Percival did so. “I wish I was sorrier to intrude, lady, but I need to talk to you and your man here.”

Vex turned on the vanity stool to face the intruder, hairbrush folded with her hands in her lap “This doesn’t look like talking to me. That looks like a knife in the back.” Her voice was flat, utterly lacking of emotion, but not yet angry. “If you want to talk to us so badly, do so, but it seems like you already know who we are. If you do, you should be aware the threat of violence against Percival de Rolo will bring you nothing but my wrath”.

“Thank you, dear”. Over his shoulder, Percy asked, “Can I put this down, or is our breakfast also your hostage?”

The man in the cloak kept the blade at Percy’s back. “Put it on the table, here, and then go take a seat by the lady.” Percy placed the tray down, stiffly, and grabbed the small bottle of brandy as he did. 

He stepped over to sit on the bed, perpendicular to Vex, but just close enough to brush her knee with his. The intruder stepped back and to the side, placing himself behind the table and one of the high-backed chairs arranged around it. He held the dagger in his right hand as he folded his arms on the chair’s back. 

“I don’t want to threaten or hurt no one, but I’m not going to take the fall for something I didn’t do. I’m not going to let some rich bastards put it all on Relli, no matter who they bring in to hunt me.”

Vex kept her calm. “We’re not involved, we certainly aren’t framing anyone, and we have no idea who you are. We hadn’t heard of you before last night. ”

Percival, fidgeting with the brandy bottle, was not calm. “Frankly, I’m warming to the idea of hunting him.”

“Not helpful, dear.” she took her eyes from Brown-cloak for the first time since he came into the room. “Just because you're sore that he got the jump on you, doesn’t mean you have to be petulant.”

Percy gave a huff of indignance. “He didn’t jump me, Vex. Give me a little bit of credit. He was acting like a guest, heading up to his room. I thought you would be more upset about my spilling the coffee in the hallway than my losing an organ, so I brought him along.”

“Jokes about you bleeding will never be funny to me, Percival.”

Brown-cloak, Relli, was now aware that despite being the only armed party, he was rapidly losing control of the conversation.“Listen, I’ve heard some about you, and a friend of mine told me that you were asking around about me and Wilfie Wolff. I had nothing to do with that, and I ain’t gonna rot in jail or become hydra-bait because her rich boy-toy's family can buy off the bastions or hire some fancy. . ” He waved the dagger at them in a circular motion, searching for a word to describe what he thought they were. “bounty hunters to kill me in the street.”

Vex managed to respond before Percy, and her smooth tones carried over his unhelpful muttering, which she was fairly sure was, “Why wait for the street?”

“Mr. Relli, there’s been some mix-up here, I assure you. Yes, a friend of our asked us to help her uncle, who seems to be missing, and accused of killing Ms. Wolff. Yes, your name came up because you had been seen with her.” She raised her voice slightly over Relli as he began to object, “But we aren’t bounty hunters out to get you, and we are not involved in any official way here. We were just trying to help our friend find her uncle and make sure he is safe.”

Relli had straightened behind the chair and was becoming visibly aggravated. He began to gesture at the two of them with the dagger, and spoke even more quickly, as if he hoped to avoid being interrupted again by the de Rolos he had supposedly taken hostage.

“Yeah, that’s rich! You expect me to believe you aren’t here to make me hang for killing Wilfie, and then you tell me you’re looking out for the guy I socked for firing her and kicking her out on the street! After all she had done for him!” In his agitation, he took a half-step to the right; as soon as his hand holding the dagger cleared the back of the chair, Vex took action.

The hair brush that she had been holding when Percy and Relli had entered the room was another favorite gift; this one from her brother. Vax had given it to her soon after they had become members of the council in Emon. Made of pressed silver, with light-colored bristles, it’s back had a depiction of a placid pond surrounded by woods. It had been one of the few items that she had taken from her room as they had fled Emon, when the dragons attacked.

It was a useful bonus that it perfectly fit her hand, and had nice balance and weight for throwing. She flicked her wrist and arm with almost impossible suddenness, and let fly. Her aim honed by years of practice and combat, the brush struck Relli’s hand and dagger, and sent the weapon tumbling to the floor.

Surprise and pain jerked his body, and he bent down, pulling his now-injured hand in toward his belly, and possibly thinking to reach for his weapon with other. Vex was already on her feet and starting toward her own gear.

She might as well have stayed seated. As Relli reacted to the blow of the hairbrush, and bent down, the side of his head exploded in a shower of glass and brandy. Liquid and shards of glass sprayed the wall past him, and the stocky man dropped like a sack of grain to the floor.

Vex changed direction, moving to grab the dagger, but stopped short of the mess of broken glass, brandy and now, blood. Percy stepped around her, hand momentarily cupping her waist, and then dragging off as he moved forward.  He grabbed the blade and poked the downed man with the toe of his boot. Relli did not respond, but appeared to be breathing. The blow with the bottle had knocked him unconscious. 

Percy stepped back to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist. They stood a moment and looked down at the defeated intruder.

“Nice shot, darling”

“Thank you, dearest. You as well. It wasn’t as intentional as it looked. I was aiming to disarm him and you beat me to it. I had already thrown it by the time you hit him. He just leaned into it.”

They were silent for a beat.

“It’s a pity.”

She looked up at his face in profile “What is, Percy? He burst in here, knife at your back. He didn’t seem to be listening to us when we told him we weren’t out to get him. We weren’t going to convince him, and I don’t think we hurt him too badly.”

Percy shook his head a small, careful amount. “Not that. The brandy. I was looking forward to having a little with our morning coffee. I thought it might help with this whiskey headache.”

Vex's serious expression broke into a grin. She turned into him, joined her hands behind his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss, releasing him after a moment. “Well then, that’s the most horrible thing we’ve had to deal with this morning. Let me have someone send for the bastions to take this man to a healer and then jail and someone to clean up this mess, and then let’s see about getting you taken care of.” Her tone by the last phrase was a purr that she knew to be very unsubtle, but highly effective. 

She started for the door, but was pulled back to her husband by the hand. After another long, deep kiss, he was the one to pull away, and she became aware that he had pressed the handle of the dagger into one hand, and her treasured brush into the other.

“Let me go, and you watch our uninvited guest. As much as I love that dressing-gown, I prefer it to be for private, rather than public viewing.” He smiled wide at her as he strode to the door to alert the management of the incident and send for the authorities.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an intruder in their room, our heroes run some totally mundane errands until they can reconvene and move forward. There's no way anyone gets his or herself in trouble.

They didn’t leave the inn until much later that morning - or more accurately, that afternoon. After all the cleanup and reports and other excitement, there had been the appropriate amount of time spent on, in and around the bed. Then they had dressed, and headed downstairs for a meal. On their way, they became distracted by whispered words and wandering hands, which lead to a return to the bedroom - and then finally back downstairs for food. When all that had been taken care of, they parted ways to conduct a little business on their own.   
  
Percy had to address the tasks that were the official reason for their trip; deliver some documents from various Whitestone trade guilds and the council to their counterparts here in Vasselheim. He had also wanted to look in on Victor - to make sure his hand/claw/pick contraption was still in working order, or even if the old man had managed to keep from losing any other major body parts.  
  
Vex'ahlia was planning to look for additional bestiary tomes for her library, as well as a quality bow-maker. She had begun to consider training and outfitting other hunters for patrols around the city and the Parchwood.   
  
Trinket would accompany her, although she did not have much of a choice in the matter. He made it clear that he did not wish to be away from Vex, after not being present to stop this morning's intrusion.   
  
Either through Trinket's sharp senses, or some long attunement to Vex, he had recognized something wrong with his 'pack’, and had sundered, with claws and brute size, the doors leading to the inn's back gardens in an effort to get back to the room. It had taken substantial soothing from his mother before he would step away from her, needing the enticement of meaty treats and assurances from both of them that they would not lock the doors veranda while Percy and Vex enjoyed private time together.  
  
Vex had also skillfully calmed the owner's angst over damage to the property, until an allusion was made to banning the bear from the premise altogether. At that, Vex'ahlia had slid into an aristocratic mien that filled her husband with pride (as well as other feelings, but even newlywed ardor has it proper limit - he would let her know later). “What kind of ‘high-class’ establishment allowed noble guests to be accosted by hooligans in its suites?” The owner was quick to make apologies, and Vex agreed to pay a reasonable amount for any repairs to the doors.  
  
They planned to meet back at the inn in time for a late afternoon drink. They would further discuss the unwelcome visitor of the morning, and if, or how, they could further help Lyra.   
  
-  
  
Vex stalked forward in the alleyway that led to the back of the building that had once been the Velvet Cabaret. Her eyes watched a figure drag a burlap sack along the ground toward an open door in the building’s rear. Either the sack was heavy, or the man (she could see it was a man, now, likely human, but it was still too far away to make out his face) was not very strong, as he gripped the sack with two hands at one corner, and seemed only to be able to pull it along in short bursts. Taking another step forward, Vex could hear the man grunt and strain with each pull.  
   
He was almost at the back door, and she still couldn’t make out his features in the shade from the surrounding buildings. He was wearing clothes just a bit too nice for manual labor, so he likely wasn’t miner or a craftsman, but not fine enough to be those of a noble or clergy. Maybe a merchant? She couldn’t tell, and she couldn’t see his face, and he was almost inside!  
   
Hoping for a better look, she took a few more rushed steps forward. Still crouched low and careful, she tried to remain quiet, but urgency was beginning to outweigh her caution. Besides, she had checked the alley fairly thoroughly as she came down it, and Trinket was stationed at the entrance to the street behind her. If anyone entered the alley from that direction, she expected to hear his warning growl, followed by suitably terrified reactions.  
   
Her rushing steps didn’t help. The man finished yanking the sack across the threshold, and loosed a relieved grunt as he leaned back even further into the pitch-dark of the inside of the building. The door swung closed, leaving no sign of the man except for the drag marks, and some drips in the dirt that could have been from the man’s efforted perspiration.   
   
Vex was frustrated at having missed a chance to gather more information, and if she were honest, a little with her own inability to do something about it. She would always be her own harshest critic, even though she had made a concerted to be more forgiving with herself. She paused just inside the end of the alley, before it opened into the tiny, shady back courtyard.  
  
What would Vax do? , she thought. He would attempt to infiltrate the building, either by picking a lock, or stalking to a second story window, and continue to search inside. He would then likely do something stupid, get himself caught and have to throw himself out the window in a bloody mess in order to escape.   
  
No, that won’t do at all.  
  
She would wait. She would wait a little while, and see if the man left, or if anyone joined him. As she had tried to stealthily rush forward the last few yards to get a better look at the man, she had noticed an area of shadow, created where an entryway to the building on the alley’s left side jutted out. She had caught it out of the corner of her eye as she had advanced, its darkness deep enough to be hidden from even her superior vision. It would have a view of the target door, and keep her out of sight. She sidled two steps over, and slowly edged backward, eyes remaining fixed on her target door, waiting to feel the angled wall at her back.  
  
Instead, alarm washed over her, and her sense of time to slowed to a crawl. The object she backed into wasn’t a wall, it was a person. Taller than her, she felt their chest give slightly against the pressure from her back. She sucked in breath in shock and her instincts kicked in, screaming in her head. Move! Fight! Run!  
  
Whoever was behind her, they were blindingly quick - faster than she, which was nearly impossible. Before she could react, a hand flashed into her vision and an arm was felt around her body. A gloved hand passed her eyes and covered her mouth with firm pressure, while the other arm, not thick, but strong still, wrapped her arms against her sides and applied enough leverage to pull her backwards and up onto her toes.  
   
She had been surprised and rendered almost helpless in an instant. Her attacker continued to pull her up and back. She heard a whispered voice in her ear.  
  
“Shhh. Hello, wife.”  
  
-  
  
They walked back to the inn mostly in silence. There had been a few whispers and hand gestures in the alley, but the rest of this conversation would take place in someplace they knew they wouldn't be overheard, and after they had both had a few minutes to put their thoughts in order.   
  
Trinket, always excellent at reading their moods, made his way out onto the room’s veranda, and lay down in a remaining sunny patch. He folded his paws and rested his head upon them, looking in.  
  
"So," Vex started, she sat down on the bed and began to unlace her boots. "We both had the same idea and decided not to share with the other. I thought we had moved beyond this, Percival, both of us".   
  
The tension in the room was almost a living breathing thing, filling the air between them. They had argued before, been angry at each other, but not since their relationship had changed; become something new, with promises and rings.  
  
"Yes." His eyes came up from where they had been focused on down toward his shoes. They looked at her, and his mouth took on the slight upturn that meant he believed he was saying something particularly clever. "This is what we get when we both try to be inscrutable".   
  
Vex smiled around the beginnings of tears in her eyes, at her husband’s pride in his own silly, clever words. And like that, the worried emotion drained from between them. The potential storm of concerns discharged by a countervailing force of warm feeling.  
  
"And that is why we both waited until we had died before we told each other how we felt” She crossed the room to wrap him in her arms, leaning head against his chest. “For two people who believe themselves smarter than most, we can be awfully dimwitted".   
  
"Mm. " he muttered, and leaned back slightly from the waist to try to look her in face. “Perhaps we should endeavor to always be clever together".  
  
"Hmmm." She leaned with him, keeping her ear against the steady heartbeat in his chest, and frustrating his attempt to pull away. "Another vow this week? A vow of scrutability."   
  
She felt him chuckle, the rumble in his chest against her cheek. "There's no way that's a word, but I agree regardless. If a mess will not allow us not to be involved in it, then we shall be involved together."  
  
She made another approving sound against his chest, and they stood that way for quite some time.  
  
He continued, “This is a deal I would make at any time. Do you happen to have a contract that I can sign in blood?”  
  
“Percy!” She laughed, scandalized, “That’s terrible!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking a look at this and those who have commented.
> 
> I know I didn't advance the plot much here, but I'm still working the last bits out (actually having a plot is hard, people!)
> 
> I'm also just happy to be able to function after the past two CR episodes, including last nights Epilogue, which left me racing through social media and having a wide range of emotions about these characters and writing them after their story has reached a conclusion. It feels a little weird, but I don't want to let them go yet, if that makes sense.
> 
> I may try to finish this up in the next few weeks, hopefully before the final Q&A episode, or whatever other culminating thing they do for this story, but that's probably maudlin and optimistic.
> 
> Thanks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story so far: Vex and Percy, are on a sort-of-honeymoon in Vasselheim after their secret wedding. They have encountered their old friend from the Slayer's Take, Lyra, who has asked them to help find her uncle, who had supposedly left town, and now been implicated in the murder of his long-time assistant, and lover, Wilfrieda Wolff.
> 
> Percy and Vex, hoping for time to themselves to revel in their newly-wedded-ness (?) are a bit reluctant to get too involved, but are soon accosted by a guard, briefly held hostage in their room, and have now observed suspicious goings-on at a familiar shady location.

Percy had been watching the back door before Vex’ahlia had arrived. As such, he had clearly seen the face of the man dragging the sack into the Velvet Cabaret. 

 

Sharing of this information had been delayed by Vex's surprising appearance at the scene and their ensuing disagreement, the first of their wedded lives. Then there had been the part where they ‘kiss and make-up’, which he had been rather enjoying.

 

He pulled his face up and away from his wife’s, and avoided her attempt to chase for more kisses. He said, lightly, “At the Velvet Cabaret. Did you recognize the man?”

 

Vex opened her eyes. “No. I didn’t get a good look at him.” Her face became somehow more vibrant and excited as she grasped his meaning. Gods, he thought, she was a wonder. “You did? Did you know him?”

 

He nodded his head a few degrees, and pulled her to him a little tighter, drawing a deep, slow breath. “Now, I want you to remain calm.”

 

“I’m perfectly calm, darling. Come on and share.” Her smile recedes with his preface and intensified embrace.

 

“I recognized someone we’ve dealt with here before.”

 

“And?” She did not much care for the way he was slowly parceling out this information. It sounds like he’s working up to bad news. She made that dislike evident by leaning her upper body away from him, bringing her hands up from where they had been grabbing playfully at his rear, to press her palms flat against his chest. “Spit it out.”

 

“I believe he’s the trader who Grog overpaid in dragon parts-”

 

“No!”

 

“And who may have been present when Grog, Tary and Doty had that run-in with the guards.”

 

Vex had turned her hands to clenched fists, gripping his shirt and pulling herself against him. He felt her chest tremble, and Percival thought for just a moment that she may be crying. Then he heard her begin to laugh. She pulled her face away from his shirt front to look up at him with an expression he knew meant trouble for someone.

 

“Oh, I  _hate_  him!” Her smile broadened. “This is going to be so much fun!”

 

                                                                                                  *            *            * 

 

They decided to throw delicacy aside in approaching Vex’ahlia’s least favorite merchant. His name was Cidric Gillsman, they learned from Lyra, and from comments she recalled from her uncle Randy, was well-known, if not particularly well-liked. 

 

Vex had continued to refer to him only as ‘that dick’. 

 

She would enter his shop toward the end of the day, make damn sure he remembered her and her animus towards him, and begin asking pointed questions about the Velvet Cabaret, the deceased Ms. Wolff and the missing Uncle Randy. Percy would wait behind the shop, in case their merchant friend tried to escape Vex’s questioning by bolting out the back. 

 

Although he was well aware that one of his worst habits was to believe that the worst possible outcome was guaranteed in most situations, Percy wasn’t worried for her safety in this particular instance. Vex’ahlia was one of the most fearsome combatants he had ever seen: quick, clever, relentless. He had no concern for her safety from a mere trader. 

 

The trader, however, should be terrified.

 

He made his way around the block from the shop, where a busy open-air market was taking place. He walked to the point on the parallel street that he reckoned put him even with the back of the store, and turned into the next alleyway, squeezing between and then behind busy booths selling fruit preserves and whittled statuary, respectively.

 

Though his pride would make him loathe to admit it to the gnome, he had adopted Scanlan Shorthalt doctrine of sneaking around in public – act like you belonged until someone figured out that you did not. He moved without breaking stride or looking around furtively. No one tried to stop him as he moved between the buildings. 

 

He found a spot a few paces to the left of the back door to Gillsman’s non-descript little shop, and leaned his shoulder against the wall. If the door opened, the first thing Gillsman would see as he turned to their right would be Percival looking right at him, pistol casually resting in hand.

 

Tactically, there were much better hiding places. Several would allow him the element of surprise, keep him from being seen or reached by a startled attacker fleeing the back door of the shop. As long as he was being frank about his own shortcomings, though, he might as well admit to another of the many he had cataloged and repeated to himself over the years: he was just as vain as his beloved. Maybe moreso, when it came to doing something to achieve dramatic effect.

 

                                                                                                  *           *           * 

 

Vex could have enjoyed this more, she thought, if she got to play it subtle. If she had the time or inclination, to fake ingratiation, or even to apologize for the way her party had treated Gillsman in past dealings, and then to slowly bare her teeth and break this little shit apart.

 

But this direct approach may still be quite enjoyable.

 

She entered through the door, and swept her eyes around as they began to adjust to the dimmer light of the interior. It was a fine shop, if a little small. 

 

_Too bad it was owned by an arsehole._

 

It was made to feel more close by the sheer volume and variety of items packed on to shelves and small tables around the edges of the space. It was clean, and easy to navigate, but busy, just short of cluttered.

 

It was as if the owner was having some trouble moving merchandise, and was bringing more and more items to find something that would sell. 

 

_Interesting._

 

She could see Gillsman ( _that dick!_ ) finishing up a transaction with two Halfling women, both in robes that marked likely to be acolytes of some sort. Vex couldn’t tell what of without seeing any underlying vestments or holy symbols. She turned her back to the small counter, and feigned interest in a few of the items lining the front wall. She doubted that he had seen enough of her face against the bright light from the outside to recognize her as she entered, and she wanted to at least draw out his realization of his doom until these cleric women had left the store. 

 

No holy women should have to witness how she planned to torment this bastard. 

 

She browsed the various knick-knacks and low-powered magical charms and items, picking up one here and there and pretending to examine it, until she felt the two Halfling women walk past her, and heard the door open and close again. A few moments after it did, she heard precise footsteps approach her, and an officious voice ask if he could be of service.

 

“Why yes, good shopkeep!” She exclaimed, her voice delighting in mock sincerity as she wheeled around. She gave him a large smile, and a sincere one. She was not sincerely happy to see him, but was sincerely enjoying the prospect of light psychological torture.

 

For his part, Cidric Gillsman tried to keep up his veneer of the pleasant, customer-comes-first vendor, greeting her with a large grin of his own and an open-palmed gesture to his wares. It took him a few beats to process her face, and he tried to keep it together as the connections were made. Vex could almost imagine she heard the sound of heavy objects crashing together happening behind his eyes as recalled who she was, and remembered her friends.

 

She knew it when his eyes went wide, and appeared, almost on their own,  to pull his head fully around to the door. He was likely looking for  Grog. His expression gone blank as his brain misfired, and his complexion splotchy. Blood drained from his cheeks, and yet his forehead reddened. It was not a good look, on a salesman, or anyone.

 

“You!”  An exclamation, an accusation.

 

“Me!’ She kept her response bright.

 

“No! No! I told your friend never again! Leave me alone! Get out, get out! I’ll call the Bastions!”

 

Vex kept her smile, but made sure to pull her lower lip back a bit, to accentuate her canine teeth, lending a feral aspect to the look and throwing a purr into her voice. “Oh, Cidric, the Bastions would never get here in time.”

 

He began to away from her, mouth working wordlessly as he processed the light threat, and attempted to come up with some kind of response.

 

“Besides,” Vex continued, her tone level and playful. She  _was_  enjoying this. “They might be less interested in hearing about how you fear for your life from a wealthy, powerful customer, and more interested as to why you were seen dragging heavy things into the back of an abandoned building.” She took a half-step toward him as he continued to shuffle backwards towards the relative safety of his counter and the back half of the shop. “A building, where a murdered woman was seen shortly before her death.”

 

That did it. He had broken. His mouth and the muscles in his lower face continued to move, but not to make words, or to fashion a normal expression. Instead they seemed to be having some sort of mutiny, each working against each other and attempting to pull in a different direction. His lips would pull back, while the muscles in his cheeks seemed to be in a harsh disagreement whether to pull down into a grimace, or to try to maintain a semblance of a friendly expression.

 

It would have been truly horrifying to watch, if it had been happening to anyone else. Vex would have been repulsed, or at least concerned. In this case, she was a professional making dispassionate observations. She had never seen this reaction in anyone before. Would his face eventually pull itself together, she wondered, or would it somehow rip itself asunder under the strain?

 

                                                                                                     *         *         *

 

The back door to the shop began to swing open, and Percival readied his pistol and a clever line.

 

The person who popped out was not the shopkeeper, but his wife, who smiled upon seeing him before throwing on a scandalized look. “Oh, Lord Percival! Are you hanging around in shady back alleys again? How undignified!”

 

Percy holstered Animus. “Hello Lady Vex’ahlia. How fares the shopkeeper?”

 

“Oh, he’s unconscious.”

 

Percy was surprised that it had come to violence. “You had to knock him out?”

 

“No, he just fainted. Swooned at my mere presence.”

 

Percy smiled. “Well, my love, you do tend to have that effect.”

 

Vex returned the expression. “I do, don’t I?”  She reached out for his hand and pulled him, willingly, through the door and shut it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long break between chapters. I have posted some other stuff, and have been struggling with this one recently, from a plot perspective and stylistically.
> 
> I am always happy for any suggestions or feedback. I'm not in love with this chapter, but wanted to get an update out there. Thanks for your patience, if you have read this far.
> 
> Happy thanksgiving, fellow Americans! (And everyone, if you want, I guess!)


End file.
